


the depth of winter

by badAquatic



Series: Trailerstuck [78]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human/Troll Society, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Ashen Romance | Auspistice, Discussion of Abortion, Domestic, Drunkenness, F/M, Fan Offspring, Grubs, Hermaphroditic Trolls, M/M, Mental Health Issues, New Year's Eve, Original Character(s), Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, discussion of past rape, drugged drinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 18:14:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3456995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badAquatic/pseuds/badAquatic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Its tradition in New Jack to take care of loose ends before the end of the year so that's exactly what Karkat plans to do. </p><p>Takes place immediately after "festival bullshit".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. missing you

**== >Be Karkat after the sleepover**

 

You’re pulled from sleep when tiny teeth gnaw on your big toe. You look down and see Suxxor chewing on your foot. You unhinge the squeaking grub and pick him up.

“How did you get out of your room?” you ask, poking Suxxor’s tummy. Suxxor hisses and bites your finger, which is his way of saying ‘Hello’. “Can you talk yet? Can you say ‘Karkat’? Can you say ‘Sollux’? Can you say ‘Daddy is a big dumb idiot’?”

Suxxor growls and continues chewing on your finger. He’s more interested in food than language. You disentangle yourself from Sollux and walk to the grub’s bedroom. Eridan is passed out on the mattress, curled up under a pile of blankets. He must have nodded off reading his book for Kanaya.  

You have to admire that kind of flush dedication.

You go to the kitchen and search through the cabinets, locating the box of grub pellets. You carefully read the instructions and dole out a small amount for Suxxor along with canned green beans. Suxxor sniffs the vegetables and glares at you.

“Hey, don’t make that face. It’s good for you.” you insist. Suxxor hisses and turns his nose up at the food. You roll your eyes and leave the kitchen. “Sollux, your son’s a pain in the ass.”

“He gets that from his mother…” Sollux snorts, half-awake.

You sit next to him. “I should get ready to go. Strider’s long overdue for morning harassment.”

Sollux yawns. “Honestly, I didn’t expect you to stay this long. I’m not in your quads.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You frown, poking Sollux in the side, “Can’t two friends hang out without being romantically involved? Pitch or otherwise?”

“I’m not saying that. I just don’t want to eat up your time.”

“Hey, asshole,”--you poke his nose, smirking--“ _never_ think you’re eating up my time. I _always_ have time for you.”

Sollux blinks and his eyes flicker, shifting in color as the small black pupils dilate. He leans against you, smiling. “Alright…”

You shut your eyes and start falling back asleep, when there’s a knock at the door. Sollux gets up, taking the moment and the additional warmth with him.

The yellowblood opens the door and his jaw slackens. “… _Fef_?”

“ _Sollux_!” Feferi nearly tackles the smaller yellowblood, hugging him tightly. You haven’t seen Feferi decked out in her festive gear in ages. Paste pearls are strung through her hair, matching the white lace of her flouncing fuchsia dress.

“What are you doing here?” Sollux says, words muffled by Feferi’s heftsacks in his face.

“I wanted to see you, of course!” Feferi says, grinning, “I missed you and I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to spend Winter Holiday together. There was an emergency at the troll shelter and I didn’t—well— _couldn’t_ leave because of the police.”

“Is everything okay?” Sollux asks, alarmed.

“Nothing unusual, sadly. There was a fight. One of the trolls was off their anti-psychotic meds and--”

You tune out after that because you really don’t give a fuck why about what happened at the shelter. Once she shows up, Sollux’s face lights up and your presence goes ignored. You locate your pants and shoes and leave the trailer before Feferi starts asking how long you’ve been there. You move down the road, crunching through the frozen mud, and arrive at your trailer. Dave is sitting on the couch, eating cereal and watching dated cartoons.

Dave glances at you and frowns. “What happened?”

You sit on the bed. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re scowling like a rat crapped in your shoes again.” Dave says.

“I’m not scowling.” You grunt, undoing the knotted laces of your muddy boots.

“What happened at Sollux’s?”

“Nothing happened.” You shuck off your boots and put them on the shoe tree in the corner. “We just hung out and watched bad movies. I only stayed longer ‘cause Suxxor got sick and I helped out. What’d you do?”

“Oh, I went for a night on the town. Took in the opera. Read the weekly penny saver and cut coupons—what do you _think_ I did, Karkat? I spent the night with my pregnant girlfriend looking at baby stuff until I literally passed out in her lap...or the little bit of room remaining.”

“Because she’s getting close to barn sized now?” you say, because Jade isn’t in the room and is (hopefully) asleep.

Dave looks to the bedroom and then whispers. “If you value _your_ tender parts, I wouldn’t say that too loud. Jade might be pregnant but she’s still _dangerous_.”

“You think you have to tell me that? That woman is like The Bride and _you_ knock her up.” you snicker, “You’re going to have tiny amazons running around, destroying everything you hold dear, sacrificing your shades and precious ironic shirts to heathen gods.”

Dave grimaces. “Oh, there will be _no_ touching of anything that belongs to Dad or it will end very poorly for _everyone_.”

“You know kids have to destroy at least _one thing_ their parent loves. It’s a rule.”

“That’s a stereotype. Not all kids are the destructive little cretins like in the movies.”

“True, but they’re clumsy and they want to be a part of your world. Didn’t you ever destroy anything that was important to Bro or Jake?”

Dave goes silent but his ears turn bright red. “Can’t really remember…”

“Never be a lawyer, Strider. You’re a _terrible_ liar.” You snicker, “What did you do? Break a very expensive katana?”

“I didn’t do _anything_.” Dave insists.

“He broke my Auto-Responder.” Dirk says from the kitchen.

Dave jumps and glares at the kitchen door. “When did _you_ get here?”

“I’ve been in here for the past ten minutes making Jake breakfast.” Dirk says.

“What’s an Auto-Responder?” you ask.

“It was an AI programmed used to auto-respond to my messages.” Dirk says, “I had it for a long time and Dave broke it messing around.”

“They looked like toy glasses!” Dave insists, face still red, “How was I supposed to know they were _that_ important?”

“You must have been really heartbroken about that.” you snicker, looking at Dave’s embarrassed face.

“Not really. They were a…” Dirk sighs, “…a _gift_ from an ex and full of bad memories and regrets. In retrospect breaking it was for the best. I was hung up on a lot of things related to those glasses…” The older Strider trails off and then clears his throat, adding, “I didn’t care about the glasses so much as Dave was snooping in my room even though I told him a hundred times not to.”

“I was like six! I didn’t _know_ any better!” Dave insists.

“I made it clear hundreds of times for you not to go in there without _me_ , but you did _anyways_.” Dirk continues.

“Wait, _why_ weren’t you allowed?” you snicker.

“Kids really shouldn’t be allowed to mess in an adult’s bedroom by themselves.” Dirk says.

“He didn’t want me finding his porn stash,” Dave snorts, “which I did anyways so it was futile.”

Dirk opens the kitchen door, glaring at Dave. “That’s because you kept snooping around and rediscovering my passwords.”

Dave shrugs. “So what? I was a kid. Didn’t you ever uncover your old man’s porn?”

Dirk frowns. “I didn’t have a… _traditional_ upbringing.” Before you can open your mouth, Dirk adds. “I’d rather not get into the details right now. And Dave, you should really visit Jake. I think he’s starved for company. He’s holding long conversations with Khanie.”

Dave shrugs. “So?”

“Khanie is still an _egg_.” Dirk sighs, “I know we agreed that Khanie should hear our voices but it’s getting weird.”

“I visited him yesterday and the stairs are slippery and it’s still _cold_ out…” Dave whines.

“Dave, stop being lazy and spend time with your father.” You say.

“Spend time with your kids.” Dave huffs, slumping down on the bed.

“How in the hell am I supposed to do _that_?” you huff, “Neither of them are hatched and one already has parents.”

“When was the last time you called Vriska? Or _saw_ her?” Dave asks.

You…actually don’t remember the last time you talked directly to Vriska. “She’s rarely online these days.” you lie, unconvincingly.

“Karkat, message your grub mama already. I don’t know why you hesitate with her.” Dave sits up, putting on his boots. “Sooner or later, Vriska needs _someone_ to bail her out of her own stupidity.”

“I’m not really the person to be advising anyone about stupidity.” You grumble.

“I’m not saying for you to solve her problems. I’m just saying that without boundaries, Vriska tends to fuck up.”

You won’t deny that Vriska’s odds of fucking things up, but you’re not her mother. You do feel bad about not talking to her very often but it’s still so awkward between you. Every time you message her, you have a niggling doubt that you’re distracting Vriska from some fancy party or new friend. Still, Strider raises a point you can’t ignore. You wait until Dave and Dirk leave so you can message Vriska for the first time in weeks.

 

\--carcinoGeneticist[CG] began trolling arachnidsGrip[AG]!--

 

CG: HEY. I KNOW IT’S BEEN A WHILE BUT I’M JUST CHECKING IN TO SEE IF YOUR GIFT CAME.

AG: Oh.

AG: It’s you.

CG: YEAH.  

AG: And here I thought you were 8asically done talking to me. Again.

CG: CG: NO, IT’S NOT THAT. SOMETIMES I…WORRY ABOUT BOTHERING YOU.

CG: YOU’RE IN SOUTH NEW JACK LIVING IT UP NOW AND I THINK THAT MAYBE YOU DON’T WANT TO BE REMINDED THAT YOU'RE FROM THE NINTH WARD. MOST PEOPLE THAT RELOCATE THERE BECOME ALL ABOUT REINVENTING THEMSELVES SO THAT PEOPLE WON’T LOOK DOWN ON THEM. I DON’T REALLY BLAME YOU FOR DOING THAT. YOU’RE CATERING TO A DIFFERENT COMMUNITY AFTER ALL AND THIS NEIGHBORHOOD IS SHITTY. I’D MOVE TOO IF I HAD CUSTODY OF OUR KID.

CG: SO…YEAH. IT’S ONE OF MY HANG-UPS AND WHY I DON’T REALLY CONTACT YOU VERY OFTEN. SORRY.

CG: IT SEEMS LIKE YOU’RE ALWAYS OFF CHANGING YOURSELF AND I DIDN’T THINK YOU WANTED TO BE REMINDED OF YOUR OLD LIFE.

AG: No.

AG: That’s not it at all.

AG: Shit, Karkat, I actually thought you were pissed that I left in the first place.

CG: I WASN’T MAD ABOUT THAT. I WAS NEVER MAD ABOUT YOU LEAVING.

AG: Yeah, Niners always *say* that 8ut they’re still dicks a8out it when you leave. They think I’m uppity and too good for home. In South New Jack, people don’t give a shit a8out where you’re from. People from all over go to the university and colleges and piss off when they’re done. It doesn’t matter to them if people leave or not and no8ody cares a8out your religion or personal life.

CG: SOUNDS LIKE YOUR KIND OF PLACE.

AG: Yeah. I like it here.

CG: DID YOU GET THE GIFT?

AG: Yeah. Thanks.

AG: So why are you messaging me?

CG: I WANTED TO KNOW HOW ARTHAT WAS DOING.

AG: They’re still an egg. Not much of an update there.

CG: CAN I AT LEAST HAVE A PIC OF THEM?

AG: Sure.

AG: --arachnidsGrip[AG] sent artpic.jpg!—

 

Your kid is still a bright cerulean egg being cradled by a small scorpion lusus. At least they’re well taken care of.

 

CG: THEY LOOK COZY, OR AS COZY AS AN EGG CAN BE.

AG: Snippy is the 8est lusus I could afford. He loves Arthat a lot.

CG: HE'S REMINDS ME OF SONNY JR. HE’S REALLY AFFECTIONATE TOO.

AG: You mean your mongrel cra8dog?

CG: IF BY ‘MONGREL’ YOU MEAN ‘ADORABLE AS FUCK’, THEN YES. HE EVEN LOOKS LIKE SONNY.

CG: ANYWAYS, WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN UP TO? YOU HAVEN’T BEEN POSTING AS MUCH ON TROLLBOOK. I THOUGHT YOU MOVED ONTO ANOTHER SITE.

AG: Nah. I’ve just 8een so 8usy l8ly and didn’t want everyone 8ack in the neigh8orhood to know all my 8usiness. I’ve just 8een going to different pu8lic functions and finishing my online classes. Hopefully I can gradu8 early 8y dou8ling up.

CG: ARE YOU GOING TO GRADUATION?

AG: I don’t think so. I haven’t 8een at the physical school in a while and also, I can’t remem8er the last time I went to a large function involving you guys that wasn’t a complete disaster.

CG: WHAT ABOUT YOUR END OF THE SCHOOL YEAR PARTY?

AG: You mean the party where you got trashed on Four Loko, I got locked in my 8edroom, Tavros ruined my couch, you knocked me up, and my Mom yelled at me for an hour a8out the damn couch?

AG: Oh yeah. Fun times.

AG: I mean the sex was fun 8ut the aftermath wasn’t.

CG: WHAT DO YOU MEAN? DO YOU…REGRET HAVING A KID WITH ME?

AG: Oh my gods. Karkat. It’s not a8out *you*! If I didn’t want to have a kid, I wouldn’t have. End of story.

CG: SO WHAT IS IT?

AG: I just…

AG: Listen, this is getting weird.

AG: You’re not my moirail or in my quads. I don’t want to 8e in a relationship with you, pale or otherwise.

CG: I DON’T WANT TO BE IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH YOU EITHER BUT I STILL WORRY ABOUT YOU AND NOT JUST BECAUSE YOU HAVE OUR KID. I’M NOT THE BOSS OF YOUR LIFE BUT I CAN STILL BE CONCERNED ABOUT YOUR WELL BEING.

AG: It sounds like you’re hitting on me for pale.

CG: I’M NOT.

AG: Then what are you doing?

CG: I’M JUST TELLING YOU HOW I FEEL. I'M CONCERNED FOR YOU, LIKE I WANT TO PUT MYSELF BETWEEN YOU AND YOUR CONFLICTS. THAT SORT OF FEELING.

CG: IT’S HARD TO EXPLAIN.

AG: Wait a fucking minute, Vantas. Are you…

AG: Are you ashen for me or something?

CG: WHAT? THERE’S NO OTHER PERSON YOU’RE IN CONFLICT WITH, SO HOW CAN WE BE ASHEN? WELL, YOU’RE ALWAYS IN CONFLICT WITH *SOMETHING* SO MAYBE IT WOULD BE LIKE ME <3O YOU <3O THE WORLD?

CG: IS THAT EVEN THE ASHEN SYMBOL? I’VE NEVER SEEN IT IN TEXT. IS IT <3O OR 8O OR <8O?

AG: That doesn’t matter!

AG: Well, it matters for context reasons 8ut not right now.

AG: I don’t even know if I feel the same way. I don’t want to protect you from any conflict aside from the violent ones 8ecause duh, I don’t want to see anyone I actually like hurt. Even someone as stupid as you.

AG: How can you even 8e ashen from me? I don’t even live with you or in your neigh8orhood. Do you even *know* how to 8e ashen?

CG: NO, BUT MAYBE THIS IS HOW IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE. MAYBE THERE’S NO PROPER WAY TO ACT IN YOUR QUADRANTS WHEN IT COMES DOWN TO THE PARTICULARS. MAYBE IT DEPENDS ON THE QUADRANT-COUPLE. MAYBE TROLLS ARE JUST SUPPOSED TO NATURALLY ATTRACT AND REPEL EACH OTHER UNTIL NATURE TAKES HOLD AND PUTS THEM TOGETHER WITH WHO THEY’RE SUPPOSED TO BE.

CG: I DON’T KNOW ACTUALLY. I’M JUST SORT OF GRASPING AT STRAWS HERE, BUT THE POINT IS THAT I STILL CARE FOR YOU AND I DON’T KNOW IF THAT’S ASHEN OR NOT. IT’S UP TO YOU IF YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT WHAT’S REALLY BOTHERING YOU. I’M NOT GOING TO GUILT YOU INTO IT.

AG: Gods, you make it sounds so easy. ‘Just talk to me and everything will be alright!’

CG: I’M NOT SAYING THAT. I’M JUST GIVING YOU THE OPTION.

AG: This 8etter not turn into anything pale 8ut…

AG: I h8 our neigh8orhood. I’ve h8d it since I was old enough to understand how poor we were. I always wanted to live here, across the interst8 with all the rich hippies and college kids. It was like paradise 8ut…

AG: I love this neigh8orhood and I like it here 8ut the people are such colossal assholes. They don’t really live here so they don’t care a8out what they do. I don’t give that much of a shit either 8ut they look down on *me* for 8eing from the Ninth Ward! I’m the one that should 8e looking down on their stupid asses for not 8eing tough enough to survive in the Ninth Ward like I did.

AG: That and a hundred other things are why I h8 the people here.

CG: WHAT ABOUT WORK?

AG: What a8out it?

CG: I’M JUST ASKING IF YOU’RE UNHAPPY IN ALL SPHERES OF YOUR LIFE. HOW DO YOUR COWORKERS TREAT YOU?

AG: I don’t have ‘coworkers’. Just rivals.

CG: WHAT EXACTLY DO YOU DO FOR A LIVING?

AG: I don’t like to talk a8out it.

CG: BECAUSE OF OUR PAST?

AG: No, 8ecause it’s priv8 and none of your 8usiness. What do you *think* I do for a living?

CG: IF YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE TELLING ME, MAYBE I SHOULDN’T SAY. I’M JUST SAYING THAT WHEN YOU’RE UNHAPPY, YOU HAVE TO LOOK AT ALL THE ASPECTS OF YOUR LIFE. YOUR QUADRANTS ARE PART OF THAT.

CG: BREAKING UP WITH ME WAS THE SMARTEST THING YOU COULD HAVE DONE. IT WASN’T WORKING AND YOU WERE SMART ENOUGH TO SAY THAT BEFORE THINGS TOOK A TURN FOR THE WORSE.

AG: What would things ‘taking a turn for a worse’ 8e?

CG: WE COULD’VE BECOME LIKE OUR PARENT’S GENERATION AND STAYED TOGETHER OUT OF GUILT, THEN HAD KIDS BECAUSE THAT WOULD 'BRING US CLOSER TOGETHER'.

AG: You’re right. That would 8e the worst case scenario.

CG: DO YOU THINK THAT…MAYBE I COULD SPEND THE WEEKENDS WITH ARTHAT? I KNOW YOU HATE WHERE I LIVE BUT I’D STILL LIKE TO KNOW THEM.

AG: I don’t know. Where would they even stay? Your trailer is crowded and I don’t think want Arthat exposed to the Ninth Ward for long. They could pick up 8ad ha8its.

CG: VRISKA, IT’S NOT LIKE THEY’RE A DIFFERENT SPECIES. PLUS, ARANEA AND KANKRI WOULD BE A GOOD INFLUENCE ON ARTHAT. THEY'RE INTO THE ARTS AND SOCIETY AND SHIT LIKE THAT.

AG: I’ll think a8out it, alright? I have to go.

CG: ALRIGHT. IT WAS NICE TALKING TO YOU.

 

\--arachnidsGrip[AG] ceased trolling carcinoGeneticist[CG]!--

 

Maybe you should’ve been more insistent about seeing Arthat but you don’t feel up to it. You don’t feel up to much of anything right now. You curl up on the couch and burrow in your blanket. There are only a few more days until the end of the year and you plan to spend them relaxing.


	2. h8 you

**== >Karkat: Be Terezi at that exact moment**

“And this is Suxxor in a new outfit Eridan got him.” you say, handing your mother the picture.

Your mother smiles at the picture. “He looks just like Sollux.”

“He’s a complete brat like Sollux too.” You chuckle.

Your mother’s condition hasn’t improved yet. The doctor said it could take up to two years for her body to completely repair all the damage the cadmium inflicted. Right now, they’re concentrating on her gaining weight and replenishing her mineral and vitamin deficiencies. The malnourishment has caused her to lose chunks of hair, which she hides under a hospital cap.

Latula’s still in a far better condition than her roommate, who’s housed inside a sterile chamber due to their weakened immune system. At least you can sit next to your mother without fearing a single sneeze will kill her.

“I can’t wait to see and hold him.” Latula sighs, looking at the picture, “I want to see _all_ my grandchildren.” She looks at you. “When is Khanie hatching?”

“End of January at the latest. She’s with her adopted parents now. I still worry about her though. That maybe she’ll blame me for giving her up.”

Latula coughs. “Worry is part of parenting and the truth is that’s like Schrowhatshisname’s cat. You can’t ever know if you did the right thing because you’re not your kid and the outside doesn’t always show the inside. You can’t judge their happiness for them. Looking back on it…I was always unhappy.”

“You seemed happy with Dad,” you say, “before everything went to shit that is.”

“I know, but sometimes you don’t realize when you’re self-medicating or the difference between wanting to have a good time and wanting oblivion.” She sighs, “Being in this bed made me realize I put too much pressure on myself as a kid to be radical instead of being comfortable with who I was. I worried so much about what others thought about me that I tried to fit into that ‘radical’ stereotype. I think…that’s why it took so long for me to admit that I was being abused or that I was sick. I never wanted to lose face.”

It’s not good for your mother to focus too long on the past, especially when she’s trapped in the hospital. “What are you going to do when you get better?”

Latula grins. “Teach my grandchildren to skate...so I can school them.”

“I’m not so sure Suxxor will like that. He has Sollux’s sunlight-hating couch potato genes.” You snicker.

“I’ll drag him outside like I did with Sollux then. He needs the experience of being schooled by an old woman.”

“You’re not _that_ old, Mom. You got at least two hundred more years.”

“I doubt it on this planet. Most trolls don’t get past a hundred years.” Latula shrugs. “I’m just glad I’ve made it this far.”

You leave the room in good spirits. Kankri is in the waiting room, concentrating on his parenting book and snacking. He’s snacking around the clock now and you’re not sure if it’s anxiety or the pregnancy doubling his appetite. You think it’s the former given that Kankri is eating but isn’t gaining much weight. You were worried about him carrying multiples but so far there’s no news about that. 

You’re still on the fence about Kurloz and him having a child but you haven’t found a way to articulate an argument against it without sounding like a neurotypical sanist asshole (you even had to look up the term for what you were being biased about just to be sure). You haven’t said anything but Kankri must know how you feel. He’s been quiet about the pregnancy, hiding when he’s sick and internalizing his fears.

You make small talk on the drive home, muttering about Latula’s condition and plans for January while both of you avoid the aggressive tusk-lusus in the room. When you arrive home, Kankri lies down because he doesn’t feel well but won’t admit it. You sit in the living room and talk to Karkat online.

 

GC: 1TS NOT L1K3 1’M 4G41NST K4NKR1 4ND KURLOZ H4V1NG 4 K1D 1TS JUST TH4T TH3 T1M1NG 1S SH1TTY

GC: KURLOZ 1SN’T 3MPLOY3D K4NKR1 M4K3S SOM3 MON3Y ON H1S BLOG NOW FROM 4DV3RT1S1NG 4ND H3 H4S TH3 L1BR4RY BUT 1TS NOT 3NOUGH TO FUND 4 S3COND CH1LD 4ND W3’R3 BOTH ST1LL D3P3ND3NT ON GOV3RNM3NT 4SS1ST4NC3

GC: WH4T’LL H4PP3N 1F ON3 OF US G3TS L41D OFF?

CG: I THINK THE TIMING IS SHITTY TOO AND YOU SHOULD TELL KANKRI HOW YOU FEEL.

GC: 1 KNOW BUT H3’S S3NS1T1V3 4ND H3 H4S H4NG-UPS 4BOUT CH1LDR3N

CG: A LOT HAS HAPPENED TO KANKRI AND HE’S COME A LONG WAY BUT HE CAN *STILL* BE AN IRRESPONSIBLE ASS. HE SAID HE’D USE PROTECTION WITH KURLOZ AND LOOK WHAT FUCKING HAPPENED. HE’S AN IDIOT WHEN IT COMES TO PITCH. LOOK AT THE CIRCUMSTANCES OF MY CONCEPTION.

GC: WH4T *1S* TH3 STORY B3H1ND YOUR CONC3PT1ON? K4NKR1’S N3V3R TOLD M3 TH3 3NT1R3 SC3N4R1O H3 G3TS D3PR3SS3D OR FLUST3R3D WH3N3V3R 1 BR1NG 1T UP

CG: THE STORY IS THAT TWO HORNY AND IRRESPONSIBLE MUTANTBLOODS HATE EACH OTHER TOO MUCH IN A CONGESTED TRAILER AND ONE OF THEM IS THE OTHER’S FATHER. DEFINITELY A CASE OF FATHER-SON RELATIONSHIPS GONE WRONG.

CG: TROLL FATHER-SON RELATIONSHIPS.

CG: AT LEAST I HOPE SO.

GC: 1T M1GHT H4PP3N BUT 1 DON’T TH1NK 1T R3SULTS R3PRODUCT1ON UNL3SS SOM3TH1NG 3LS3 W4S GO1NG ON TOO

CG: WE’RE GETTING OFF TOPIC.

CG: TEREZI, YOU SHOULD TALK HONESTLY WITH KANKRI. EVEN AN IDIOT LIKE ME KNOWS YOU SHOULDN’T SIT ON THIS FOR TOO LONG. DON’T DO WHAT I DID WITH VRISKA AND JUST WAIT THINGS OUT UNTIL THEY FIZZLE TO NOTHING.

GC: HOW 4R3 VR1SK4 4ND YOU?

CG: OHH…THE SAME I GUESS?

CG: SHE LIVES WITH HIPPIES AND I LIVE WITH HIPSTER TRASH. SHE WON’T TELL ME WHAT SHE DOES FOR A LIVING BUT I CAN GUESS IT INVOLVES SPENDING A LOT OF TIME IN SOMEONE’S BEDROOM. I ASKED HER IF I COULD DO WEEKEND VISITS WITH ARTHAT AND SHE SEEMED UNSURE ABOUT IT, BUT ARANEA’S IN THIS NEIGHBORHOOD SO MAYBE ARTHAT WILL STAY WITH HER AND I CAN PICK THEM UP.

CG: I’M TRYING TO LOOK FORWARD TO BEING ONE OF THOSE PATHETIC GUILT-RIDDEN WEEKEND DADS.

GC: B31NG 4 W33K3ND D4D 1SN’T TH4T B4D 4 LOT OF TROLLS 1N P1TCH R3L4T1ONSH1PS 3ND UP DO1NG TH4T

GC: KURLOZ W1LL H4V3 TO DO TH4T FOR K4NKR1 4ND H1S K1D S1NC3 TH3Y’R3 PURPL3

CG: WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT SPACE? YOU ALREADY HAVE ONE KID AND YOU’RE NOT GOING TO GET COVERAGE FOR THAT SECOND ONE.

GC: TH3 K1DS C4N SH4R3 4 ROOM WH3N TH3Y’R3 YOUNG BUT 4S TH3Y G3T OLD3R 1T’LL B3 4 PROBL3M

GC: PURPL3BLOOD K1DS C4N B3 T3RR1TOR14L 4ND HOP3FULLY TH3Y’R3 NOT 4 G1RL B3C4US3 TH3Y’R3 3V3N B1GG3R 4ND MOR3 4GGR3SS1V3

GC: 1 4LSO H4V3 NO CLU3 WH4T KURLOZ 1S DO1NG FOR WORK H3’S NOT 3V3N W34R1NG TH3 P41NT 4NYMOR3

CG: I KNOW! DOESN’T HE LOOK TWENTY NOW? OR EVEN YOUNGER?

GC: Y34H…H3 LOOKS R1D1CULOUSLY YOUNG W1THOUT TH3 P41NT 4ND H41R

CG: I MIGHT HAVE SOME POSSIBLE GOOD NEWS ON THE EMPLOYMENT FRONT THOUGH.

GC: R34LLY NOW?

CG: YOU HAVE TO KEEP IT QUIET FOR NOW, BUT THERE’S A GUY LOOKING TO OPEN A BAR IN THE NINTH WARD. HE’S LOOKING FOR BOUNCERS AND I THINK KURLOZ WOULD BE PERFECT FOR IT. I’M ALREADY HELPING THE GUY AND PUTTING IN A GOOD WORD FOR SOME OF US.

GC: TH4T’S 1NT3R3ST1NG TO KNOW HOP3FULLY TH3Y G3T BUS1N3SS

GC: 1’LL T4LK W1TH K4NKR1

GC: TH4NKS K4RK4T

CG: NO PROBLEM.

 

\--gallowsCalibrator[GC] ceased trolling carcinoGeneticist[CG]!--

 

You hear Kankri retching into the toilet. He’s been doing that a lot lately and poorly concealing how miserable he feels. You leave the laptop on the couch and peek into the bathroom, which smells strongly of fear and stomach acids. Kankri’s fuzzy black and white shape is bent over the bowl, gagging.

“You need anything?” you ask.

Kankri shakes his head. “No. I just…I think I had too much to eat. It feels like there’s not as much room in my stomach as before. I-I don’t know…” He moves sweat-slick hair out of his face. “It’s…nerves. Not that big of a deal. I was a lot…a lot worse when I had Eridan.”

Eridan is still a sore subject for Kankri and given the circumstances, you can understand why. “If it keeps happening, you should see a doctor.” you sigh.

“We can’t afford that…” Kankri mutters.

“ _I know_.” You grunt and you feel Kankri flinch from you. You take a deep breath, “Listen, Kankri. I’m not…happy…about this but it’s happened so we just have to deal with it. I still love you and I don’t want you to hide how sick you are from me.”

 

 

The fear scent clinging to Kankri intensifies. “I don’t want you to worry though. It’s not your child and this whole unplanned mess isn’t your fault and I worry that--”

“I’m not going to leave you because of this, Kankri.” You say, almost appalled by the idea. Kankri doesn’t answer so you walk over and sit next to him on the floor. “Kankri, this was unplanned but so were Khanie and Kempie and we worked around it. Yeah, I’m annoyed because Kurloz and you said you would use protection but am I surprised? No. Am I worried that your relationship is going to fall apart and you’ll be up shit creek? Yeah. Am I concerned that your kid will have emotional issues and will need more care? Yeah, but…we just have to plan for it.”

The annoyance that’s been building in you deflates after that confession. You touch Kankri’s shoulder and he looks at you, sniffling.

“That’s all.” you say, quietly.

“I’m sorry about this...” He’s not upset but his voice is clear and not warbling. “After what happened with the Cherubs, I was scared that I’d lose Kurloz. It reminded me that purplebloods have a higher mortality rate in New Jack. I always worry about losing him, either to bullets or suicide.”

The fact that Kurloz and Gamzee haven’t committed suicide after being in Amethyst for so long is a miracle, but it doesn’t put them out of the danger zone.

“Do you…regret not keeping Khanie?” Kankri whispers.

“No,” you lie, partially. You don’t regret it because Khanie has loving parents but you still question if you made the right choice. You run your fingers through your hair. “Do you think you made the right choice keeping Eridan?”

That came out wrong but Kankri doesn’t break down into a weeping pile. He leans against the wall and contemplates.

“Yes,” he admits after a minute, “I can only look at Eridan now that he’s grown out his hair and changed his clothes. What happened wasn’t his fault, or…or _my_ fault, but it was still difficult.” He looks down. “No child likes to be reminded that their parent would be happier if they didn’t exist. I don’t know if I could ever be close to Eridan, but I think Eridan’s happier with me staying away. Maybe when he’s older, I’ll be comfortable with him because Eridan will be himself and far less like Dualscar.”

At first you don’t understand but then you consider how Dualscar raised Eridan: pompous, self-absorbed, and gaudy, with shallow affections for quadrants. Dualscar raised a small version of himself and only posthumously has Eridan branched out. You can’t recall the last time Eridan wore his fake rings or fancy sweater. He even smells different these days.

You question if it has anything to with the sinkhole, which has disrupted everything in your neighborhood.

“Do you need anything?” you ask Kankri.

Kankri shakes his head. “You don’t have to help…”

You smile. “You helped me.”

Kankri smiles and slowly stands. “I think I’ll just lay down and bother Kurloz online.”

You let Kankri do that, as pestering his kismesis online is the most enjoyment he can get these days. You own pitch quadrant has been empty for longer than you can stand but it’s not worth griping about. Pitch is a quadrant that has to come naturally. Pursuing it out of hormonal frustration would make you a laughingstock like Eridan during middle school.

You shudder at the memory: _middle school._ The cesspit of every child’s life. You take your mind off of middle school by updating your status on Trollbook, playing Trollbook games, and eventually messaging Vriska. You’re not messaging her because you hate her, but because it’s been too long since you annoyed her.

 

\--gallowsCalibrator[GC] began trolling arachnidsGrip[AG]!--

 

GC: SO WHOS3 BULG3 1S D33P 1NS1D3 YOU R1GHT NOW?

AG: I will inform you I’m more often 8ulge deep inside of people than vice versa and 8y the way, which is none of your sniffy 8usiness, Pyrope. Although I don’t mind mentioning that they all earn three times the amount of anyone in that gross mud village you call a neigh8orhood.

GC: BROK3 OR POOR 3V3RYON3 G3TS S3XU4LLY TR4NSM1TT3D P4R4S1T3S

GC: GOOD LUCK 3XPL41N1NG TO YOUR BLU3B3RRY GRUB WHY MOMMY’S BULG3 F3LL OFF

GC: H3R3’S 4 H1NT: 1T W4S B3C4US3 P4R4S1T3S 4T3 1T FROM TH3 1NS1D3 OUT

AG: My 8ulge is far too skilled and flexi8le to 8e gnawed off so easily. You must 8e thinking of your pathetic excuse for a 8ulge. A caterpillar could eat through that thing.

GC: B1TCH YOU DON’T 3V3N *KNOW* 4BOUT MY BULG3 MY BULG3 PUTS YOUR GR4NDF4TH3RS BULG3 TO SH4M3 4ND WOULD SUBJUG4T3 TH3 MOST UNSUBJUG4T4BL3 OF SUBJUGUL4TORS >:]

AG: I 8et your 8ulge is the antonym of su8jug8. What would that 8e? Oh, I know!

AG: Pyrope. >::::)

GC: OH 1T 1S *ON* NOW S3RK3T YOU DO NOT CH4LL3NG3 4 TROLL TO 4 BULG3 P1C OFF

AG: I was hatched ready for this.

 

The next half hour is spent with Vriska and you exchanging bulge pics. Kankri walks out of the bedroom while you attempt to take a picture with your pants down and walks back into the bedroom without a question.

 

GC: 1 ST1LL S4Y MY BULG3 1S B3TT3R TH4N H3CUB4’S

AG: I only say Hecu8a’s is 8etter 8ecause she pays my 8ills.

GC: SO 4R3 YOU 4 F4NCY 3SCORT NOW?

AG: I prefer the term ‘Sugar Mama/Daddy Enthusiast’.

GC: HOW D1D YOU 3V3N M33T H3CUB4 4ND G3T 1NTO H3R N31GHBORHOOD? 1’M G3NU1N3LY CUR1OUS 4BOUT YOUR 4RR4NG3M3NT 1 N3V3R THOUGHT YOU WOULD DO TH3 3SCORT G4M3 31TH3R USU4LLY TH4T’S 4 W4RMBLOOD TH1NG

AG: You have to juggle a lot of hats to pay the 8ills in my world, Pyrope, 8ut since you’re asking I’ll come down from my penthouse cloud and inform you on my luxurious lifestyle.

AG: So when I first moved to the Squalor, I quickly got sick of it. I met Nektan in a casino and I knew immedi8ly he was a huge tool, 8ut a tool with good connections. So I held onto Nektan and went to parties with him. I waited until I showed up at enough parties so that the people would recognize me sans Nektan. One of these people was Hecu8a.

AG: Hecu8a’s a classy troll. She pointed out to me that I would make more money doing paid dating for older trolls. Older trolls don’t want to 8e 8othered with quadrants or relationships so they do paid dating. Most of the trolls in East New Jack are older, pushing their first or second century, so there’s plenty of money to 8e made here.

AG: For 500 an evening I play poker and listen to some old fucks talk a8out wh8ver. It’s fucking *wonderful* and there are tons of we8sites that do the work for me like OrthodoxianMingle and FarmersOnly. I make enough to keep myself and my kid secure.

GC: SO WHY 1S H3CUB4 4 B1G D34L?

AG: She’s only a 8ig deal because I like her a lot more than you. ::::)

GC: N1C3 B41T S3RK3T BUT 1 DON’T GO FOR TH3 LOW H4NG1NG STUFF

GC: WHY’S H3CUB4 SO 1MPORT4NT TO YOU? YOU’R3 ONLY US1NG H3R L1K3 YOU US3D N3KT4N 4ND Y3T YOU BR4G 4BOUT KNOW1NG H3R

AG: The only thing that’s good a8out Hecu8a is that her living situation is most choice. She lives in a classy penthouse and the only way you can get into this complex is a recommendation from a four years or more tenant. Hecu8a lets me stay here since she’s out most of the time.

GC: W41T

GC: WH4T DO YOU M34N ‘L3T’S YOU ST4Y’? 1 THOUGHT YOU H4D YOUR OWN PL4C3

AG: I do have my own place. It’s just under consideration until some things fall into place.

GC: WH4T DO YOU M34N ‘UND3R CONS1D3R4T1ON’?

AG: They don’t give you an expensive apartment right away, Pyrope. You have to put a down payment of at least a 5600 8oons plus you need a good credit history. So right now I’m just 8uilding up credit and saving until some other things come into place.

GC: SO…L3T M3 G3T TH1S STR41GHT:

GC: YOU’R3 ST4Y1NG W1TH 4 MUCH OLD3R 4DULT TROLL TH4T YOU B4R3LY KNOW 1N 4 STR4NG3 N31GHBORHOOD W1TH NO FR13NDS OR F4M1LY 4ROUND WH3N SH1T 3V3NTU4LLY H1TS TH3 F4N

GC: HOW C4N YOU B3 TH3 SM4RT3ST *4ND* TH3 DUMB3ST TROLL 4T TH3 S4M3 T1M3 S3RK3T?!

AG: Oh please. This is just a gam8le and everything is in my favor. I don’t share a space with Hecu8a. I have my own area separ8 from her’s and I only see her like may8e three times a week.

GC: WH4T DO YOU KNOW 4BOUT H3CUB4?

AG: Oh gods, Pyrope. Don’t tell me you’re going to give me some spiel a8out my safety and how older trolls are nothing 8ut trou8le. And then I’ll go ‘Everything’s fine! My 8a8y would never hurt me!’ and then I’ll get the shit kicked out of me like this is some played-out after school special.

GC: 1’M NOT WORR13D 4BOUT YOU B31NG 4BUS3D YOU D1NGB4T SP1D3RB1TCH

GC: 1 JUST HOP3 H3CUB4 DO3SN’T 4CTU4LLY H4V3 QU4DR4NTS OR K1DS TH4T’LL ST4RT PO1NT1NG TH3 F1NG3R 4T YOU 1F SOM3TH1NG TURNS SH1TTY

AG: I don’t care as long as the 8oons keep coming.

GC: 4ND WH4T 1F YOU H4V3 TO L34V3 TH3 P3NTHOUS3 B3C4US3 OF DR4M4?

AG: Then I’ll crash somewhere else. I always have a 8ackup plan, Pyrope, and I always 8ounce 8ack. I think that shit with the Cheru8s proves that it takes more than one attempt to kill this spider.

GC: SO H4V3 YOU TOLD K4RK4T TH4T H1S K1D 1S 4ROUND STR4NG3 TROLLS TH4T H3’LL N3V3R M33T?

AG: No, 8ecause it’s none of his 8usiness and Arthat is a fucking egg! Gods, you sound like Mom Aranea: always worrying a8out the damn egg. How a8out some concern for me? I’m trying to make ends meet here 8y myself! Arthat’s going to 8e fine. She has Snippy to watch over her.

GC: W41T...4RTH4T 1S 4 *G1RL’S* N4M3?

AG: It could 8e either 8ut honestly, I’d prefer a girl. That way we could do 8eauty pageants. Though they have 8eauty pageants for 8oys 8ut the girls ones are far 8etter.

GC: YOU DO R34L1Z3 MOST CH1LD B34UTY P4G34NT CONT3ST4NTS T3ND TO GO 1NS4N3 L4T3R ON 1N L1F3 B3C4US3 OF TH3 PR3SSUR3 TO SUCC33D 4LONG W1TH TH3 COUNTL3SS 4MOUNT OF P3DOPH1L3S TH4T 4TT3ND THOS3 TH1NGS? NOT TO M3NT1ON TH3 L1F3LONG 1SSU3S R3G4RD1NG BODY 1M4G3 4ND 3XPLO1T4T1ON?

AG: Why is it you only see the negatives in my awesome plans?

GC: H3R3’S 4 B3TT3R QU3ST1ON: YOU H4V3 N1N3 PUP1LS SO WHY DO YOU ONLY S33 TH3 SURF4C3 V4LU3 1N TH1NGS?

GC: 1 B3T YOU’R3 M1S3R4BL3 1N H1PPYTOWN BUT DON’T W4NT TO 4DM1T 1T B3C4US3 TH3 4LT3RN4T1V3 1S 4 LOT MOR3 T3RR1BL3 1N YOUR H34D TH4N 1N R34L1TY

AG: The alternative *is* terri8le! I’m not moving 8ack home to Gross Mudsville and having to live with Veteran McWarhorse and Mom’s new kid. I’ll go insane and there’s no way I’m moving in with Porrim. I’ll 8ecome her live-in maid like Kanaya. I’d also have to put up with *Kanaya* constantly!

GC: TH4T’S NOT 4S T3RR1BL3 4S YOU’R3 M4K1NG 1T S33M

AG: It is!!!!!!!!

AG: Plus they have 8etter schools here. Arthat has a real chance to go far in life instead of getting dumped into the shitty schools downtown. Our school doesn’t even have a name. It’s a numeral. Everyone knows numeric schools are literally 8y the num8ers in their shittiness.

GC: 1T SOUNDS L1K3 YOU’R3 TRY1NG TO CONV1NC3 YOURS3LF MOR3 TH4N M3

AG: You can’t tell me you’re alright with your kid going to pu8lic school.

GC: PUBL1C SCHOOL H4S 1TS UPS 4ND DOWNS BUT TH3 TRUTH 1S TH4T 1N N3W J4CK C1TY 3V3RY TROLL H4S TH3 S4M3 OPPORTUN1TY WH3TH3R TH3Y GO TO PUBL1C OR NOT

GC: MOST PL4C3S OF 3MPLOYM3NT LOOK 4T COLL3G3 D3GR33S 4ND C3RT1F1C4T3S R4TH3R TH4N WH4T H1GH SCHOOL YOU W3NT TO

GC: NO M4TT3R TH3 OCCUP4T1ON OR HOW GOOD TH3 3DUC4T1ONS TROLLS W1LL ST1LL M4K3 70% OF WH4T TH3 4V3R4G3 HUM4N M4K3S S1NC3 TH3R3 1S NO F3D3R4L S4NCT1ON 4G41NST TH3 SP3C13S W4G3 G4P

GC: PLUS YOU H4V3 TO 4CCOUNT FOR TH3 SOC14L1Z4T1ON F4CTOR 4S W3LL

GC: 4RTH4T M1GHT GO TO 4 F4NCY PR1V4T3 SCHOOL BUT TH4T DO3SN’T M34N TH3Y’LL B3 4CC3PT3D BY TH31R P33RS

GC: TH31R P4R3NTS 4R3N’T C3OS OR M4N4G3RS K4RK4T WOULD B3 CONS1D3R3D 4 BLU3 COLL4R WORK3R 4T B34ST 4ND YOU’R3 JUST COMPL3T3LY OFF TH3 R4D4R

GC: 4RTH4T M1GHT GO TO 4 N1C3 SCHOOL BUT TH3Y’LL B3 LON3LY

GC: 4ND WH4T DO YOU PL4N ON T3LL1NG 4RTH4T’S T34CH3RS WH3N TH3Y 4SK 4BOUT YOUR 3MPLOYM3NT? OR WH4T YOU’LL S4Y 4T PT4 M33T1NGS TO OTH3R P4R3NTS? MOST PR1V4T3 SCHOOLS 4R3 V3RY P4RT1CUL4R 4BOUT TH3 K1N OF MON3Y YOU M4K3 3V3N 1F YOUR3 ON 4 SCHOL4RSH1P

AG: I already have that planned out! I’ll just tell them I’m a small 8usiness manager for priv8 parties.

GC: HOW DUMB DO YOU TH1NK TH3 T34CH3RS 4R3? OR YOUR K1D?

AG: I don’t give a shit as long as either don’t 8other me. Plus, Arthat’ll 8e too 8usy with TV and toys and videogames to pester me. If he wants attention, he can go to Snippy. That’s what he’s for.

GC: WOW 1 C4N F33L TH3 M4T3RN4L W4RMTH JUST OOZ1NG OFF OF YOU S3RK3T

GC: W3 SHOULD NOM1N4T3 YOU TO B3COM3 TH3 N3XT DOLOROS4

AG: I 8et Arthat will turn out 8etter than Kempie 8ecause I’m not smothering them.

GC: 1 DON’T SMOTH3R!

AG: Do too. You think you know everything, including what’s 8est for everyone. That’s why Kankri and you are made for each other. You *like* lecturing people and thum8ing your nose at the ones you think are wrong. All you do is parrot each other’s ideals. I’ve read that whole ‘pu8lic school vs. priv8 school’ de88 on Kankri’s annoying 8log you keep reposting on your Troll8ook.

GC: K4NKR1 4ND 1 DON’T 4LW4YS SH4R3 TH3 S4M3 V13WPO1NTS W3 JUST D1SCUSS TH3M

GC: TH4T DO3SN’T M34N 1 P4RROT H1S 1D34S

AG: You do and you’re in denial a8out it. Kankri and you are going to smother your Special Little Snowflake so much they won’t 8e a8le to cope with the real world. Meanwhile, Arthat will have enough street smarts and Serket-inherited wisdom that they’ll 8e voted Mx. Popular every year in school. Even middle school.

GC: OH Y34H B3C4US3 TH4T’S *TOT4LLY* HOW YOU W3R3 4T TH4T 4G3

GC: YOU’R3 ST1LL SO H4T3D 1N OUR H1GH SCHOOL TH4T TH3 Y34RBOOK CLUB H4S B33N PURPOS3LY M3SS1NG UP YOUR P1CTUR3S OUT OF SP1T3

AG: And I still look damn good. ::::)

GC: K3MP13 1S D3F1N1T3LY GO1NG TO DO B3TT3R TH4N 4RTH4T

AG: 8ullshit they will.

GC: T1M3 W1LL T3LL S3RK3T

GC: 4ND WH3N 4R3 YOU GO1NG TO H4V3 ON3 OF US OV3R YOUR PL4C3? OR 1S N1N3R TR4SH NOT 4LLOW3D 1N H3CUB4 TH3 P3RF3CTS F4NCY SU1T3?

AG: You said it. Not me.

GC: TH4T’S BULLSH1T TH3Y C4N’T 3V3N T3LL 1F W3’R3 N1N3R TR4SH 1F W3’R3 NOT DR3SS3D L1K3 1T

AG: You still act it. There are a lot of things you can fix and change 8ut you can’t change where you’re from. And I have a function to attend so I will most likely not talk to you l8r.

GC: S33 YOU L4T3R TRY NOT TO BR34K UP TOO M4NY M4RR14G3S 4ND QU4DR4NTS

AG: A8solutely no promises.  

 

\--gallowsCalibrator[GC] ceased trolling arachnidsGrip[AG]!--

 

It’s impossible to estimate how many relationships Vriska has sabotaged by now but she must have tripled her output with her current employment. To distract yourself from that train of thought, you go on Trollbook to see if anything interesting has happened. Dave is posting screencaps from his _Troll Kim Kardashian_ game _._ Karkat is updating his page with how awful _Mamma Mia!_ is but continues watching it. Nepeta is uploading more pictures of Simham in different outfits. Eridan must be competing with her because there are now pictures of Suxxor glowering at the camera in different grey sweaters. Equius has lost track of Themma again and is posting to Aradia’s wall about it. You consider messaging Eridan about your nephew when Sollux messages you instead.

 

\--twinArmageddons[TA] began trolling gallowsCalibrator[GC]!--

 

TA: hey. what are you up two?

GC: ST4LK1NG P3OPL3 ON TROLLBOOK 1NST34D OF DO1NG 4NYTH1NG M34N1NGFUL

GC: YOU?

TA: ju2t 2ort of thiinkiing about…thiing2.

GC: OH BOY MY B1G S1ST3R S3NS3S 4R3 T1NGL1NG

TA: ii’m not a kiit anymore, tz. ii don’t need coun2eliing every tiime ii me22age you.

GC: OH Y34H C4US3 “1’M JUST TH1NK1NG 4BOUT DOT DOT DOT TH1NGS” TOT4LLY TR4NSL4T3S 1NTO “3V3RYTH1NG’S OK4Y S1S! NO PROBL3MS H3R3 OR 4NYTH1NG!”

TA: iit could be.

GC: Y34H 4ND MY BLOOD 1S R4SPB3RRY FL4VOR3D

TA: ra2pberriie2 are red, not teal.

GC: NOT TH3 PO1NT

TA: and iif you iin2ii2t on 2tiickiing your 2iight-2eeiing no2e iintwo iit, yeah there ii2 2omethiing on my miind.

TA: fef and ii were talkiing today and the future came up and 2he brought up u2 moviing iin together. obviiou2ly iit can’t happen riight now. maybe when mom 2tart2 gettiing better and move2 back home…but ii don’t know what we’ll do about dad. or iif mom would mii22 haviing me around.

GC: WHY 4R3 YOU WORRY1NG 4BOUT TH1S? TH4T’S F4R DOWN TH3 RO4D

TA: ii don’t know how far iit ii2 down the road though!

TA: mom could get better wiithiin a year or fiive year2 and ii don’t know how we’ll organiize our liiviing arrangement2 eiither.

TA: eriidan can’t 2tay wiith me iif fef ii2 becau2e of dmiitry and becau2e thiing2 between eriidan and fef are 2tiill 2o ten2e. they’re on friiendly term2 but ii don’t know about them liiviing together.

GC: SOLLUX WH4T’S TH3 R34L R34SON YOU’R3 FR34K1NG OUT?

TA: ii’m not freakiing out.

GC: Y3S YOU 4R3

GC: YOU’R3 OV3R TH1NK1NG 4 S1TU4T1ON TH4T’S Y34RS 4W4Y

GC: N31TH3R YOU NOR F3F3R1 H4V3N’T H3 1NCOM3 TO 4FFORD YOUR OWN TR41L3R

GC: F3F3R1 C4N’T 3V3N B3 4ROUND DM1TRY SO YOU H4V3 TO CONF1GUR3 V1S1T1NG 4RR4NG3M3NTS

GC: WH4T’S R34LLY UNN3RV1NG YOU?

TA: ii…

TA: ii don’t know iif ii’m ready two move iin feferii.

GC: YOU’R3 NOT MOV1NG 1N W1TH H3R TOMORROW SOLLUX

TA: ii know! but ii don’t know iif ii’m ready moviing iin periiod.

GC: YOU D1DN’T H3S1T4T3 TO H4V3 3R1D4N MOV3 1N W1TH YOU

TA: that’2 becau2e eriidan’2 2iituatiion wa2 diifferent. dual2car wa2 dyiing, he wa2 paniickiing, and had nowhere el2e two go. what wa2 ii 2uppo2ed two do? turn my kii2me2ii2 away when he needed me?

GC: SO WHY 4R3 YOU PULL1NG 4W4Y FROM F3F3RI?

TA: ii’m not pulliing away. ii ju2t want more tiime two thiink about thii2. there’2 no rea2on for eiither of u2 two plan 2o far ahead. we’re 2tiill young. hell, fef’ll be young for ba2iically forever.

GC: SOLLUX

TA: what?

GC: DO YOU ST1LL F33L R3D FOR F3F3R1?

TA: …

TA: …what?!

TA: what kiind of que2tiion ii2 that? why would you ever even a2k me that?! that’2 2o…riidiiculou2! why would you a2k me iif ii 2tiill flu2hed feferii!? of cour2e ii do!

GC: 1’M JUST 4SK1NG 1F YOU FLUSH H3R B3C4US3 SH3’S YOUR M4T3SPR1T OR B3C4US3 YOU F33L B4D BR34K1NG UP W1TH H3R 4FT3R SH3 W4S S1CK? 4ND M4YB3 YOU’R3 PULL1NG 4W4Y B3FOR3 TH4T R3L4T1ONSH1P B3COM3S C3M3NT3D W1TH K1DS?

TA: iit’2 not liike that at all.

GC: 1’M JUST 4SK1NG B3C4US3 TH4T H4PP3NS 4 LOT 1N OUR N31GHBORHOOD

GC: TWO P3OPL3 F33L LUK3W4RM TOW4RD 34CH OTH3R 4ND TH3N G3T STUCK TOG3TH3R B3C4US3 OF 4N ‘4CC1D3NT’

TA: kankrii and you are doiing fiine.

GC: 1T M1GHT LOOK TH4T W4Y FROM TH3 OUTS1D3 LOOK1NG 1N BUT L1V1NG W1TH K4NKR1 1S NOT 34SY

GC: YOU H4V3 TO B3 4 V3RY P4T13NT 4ND NURTUR1NG P3RSON WH1CH 1SNT SOM3TH1NG TH4T’S COMMONLY D3M4ND3D 1N TH3 FLUSH QU4DR4NT

GC: YOU H4V3 TO B3 FL3X1BL3 1N TH4T W4Y

GC: 4ND TH3 POSS1B1L1TY OF US BR34K1NG UP 1S N3V3R OUT OF OUR M1NDS

GC: 1F K4NKR1 4ND 1 BROK3 UP W3’D JUST GO B4CK TO OUR OR1G1N4L L1V1NG 4RR4NG3M3NT

GC: W3 WOULD H4V3 JO1NT CUSTODY OF K3MP13 4ND 1 WOULD MOV3 1N W1TH K4N4Y4

GC: K4NKR1 4ND 1 BOTH 4GR33D TH4T 1F W3 STOPP3D FLUSH1NG 34CH OTH3R W3 WOULD BR34K UP: K1DS OR NO K1DS

TA: bull2hiit, you would do that. everyone want2 two 2tay together once they have kiid2.

GC: SOLLUX YOU SHOULD TH1NK 4BOUT WHO YOU’R3 T4LK1NG TO

GC: DO YOU TH1NK 1 WOULD B3 BL1ND 1F MOM H4D D3C1D3D 4G41NST ‘ST4Y1NG TOG3TH3R FOR TH3 K1DS’ W1TH D4D?

TA: …

TA: 2hiit.

GC: Y34H

TA; ii wa2 2o liittle when iit happened that ii forget the…ciircum2tance2.

GC: Y34H SO 1’M NOT FOND OF TH3 ‘ST4Y TOG3TH3R FOR TH3 K1DS’ M3NT4L1TY

GC: YOU SHOULD 4SK YOURS3LF 1F YOU’R3 ST4Y1NG W1TH F3F3R1 TO SP4R3 H3R F33L1NGS R4TH3R TH4N FLUSH1NG H3R 4ND 1F YOU 4R3 DO1NG TH4T YOUR3 C4US1NG MOR3 H4RM SOLLUX

GC: YOU COULD B3 K33P1NG H3R FROM SOM3ON3 TH4T 4CTU4LLY C4R3S FOR H3R

TA: iit2 not that ii don’t care about fef anymore. maybe my affectiion’2 ju2t cooled becau2e we 2pent 2o much tiime apart. ii thiink maybe we ju2t need two rekiindle thiing2.

TA: how’2 iit goiing on your end? heard from kk you gave khaniie two diirk and jake.

GC: 1TS F1N3

GC: JUST 4 L1TTL3 3MPTY 1 GU3SS

TA: want me two come over? kk and 2triider aren’t doiing anythiing.

GC: SHOULDN’T YOU B3 DO1NG SOM3TH1NG W1TH YOUR M4T3SPR1T?

TA: 2he’2 2pendiing the day wiith her p2ycho brother. c’mon, rezii. ii’m tiired of haviing 2tuff at 2triider’2 or my place.

GC: 4LR1GHT YOU C4N COM3 OV3R BUT YOU H4V3 TO BR1NG FOOD

 

Sollux comes by a half hour later with Karkat, Dave, Jade, and Rose. You had hoped it would be a small brother-sister gathering but since the others are bearing food, you have little problem with it. You’re not surprised John isn’t here since you’ve seen far less of him lately. You chill on the couch an spare chairs.

“So what have you been doing for employment?” Rose asks you.

“Hotel data entry.” You say, “It’s been crazy for the holidays because they always overbook. I don’t know why they run it like that but the managers don’t give a shit, so neither do I.” You shrug. “I’m thinking about a post-graduation summer internship too.”

“I’ll just be glad when I’m done reading about _The Ring of Life_.” Karkat sighs, “Compared to that, the graduation ceremony will be tragically short.”

“I thought you picked that topic because it was interesting?” Jade asks.

“I do think it’s interesting but it’s so fucking _long_.” Karkat groans, “If I ever wrote a novel, it’ll only be a few chapters long. Not a thousand page epic.”

“What exactly is _The Ring of Life_ about?” you ask. You’re not exactly brushed up on your trollian operas.

“From what I can tell it’s a really long love story.” Dave says.

“It’s not _just_ a love story, Strider. It’s an ode to trollian history and culture.” Karkat says, “The basic plot is that the Consort of Causality is abducted by a cabal of powerful wizards called the Learned. The Learned use her gold flesh to forge the Ring of Life, which can bend the laws of reality. It can bring the dead back to life or give power to mortals. The gods try to rescue the Consort but they can’t locate her. They battle the leader of the Learned; the powerful wizard Zazzerpan, for the Ring but none of the gods can use it as it corrupts their nature. Time’s Clockworks curses the Ring of Life so whoever bears the Ring shall experience great triumph and then immense tragedy. The rest of the opera depicts the eras of trollian society: the Beforans, the beginning of the Empire, the middle of the Empire, and the death of the Empire with the Condesce uncovering the cursed ring. Alternia is destroyed, cracked apart by meteors, and the Consort of Causality wakes from her enchanted slumber at the planet’s core. The Ring returns to her body and father and daughter are reunited before being destroyed with the civilization that worshipped them.”

“That’s a miserable ending.” Dave says.

“There’s a reason the last opera is called _The Fate of Gods_.” Karkat says, “No one on Old Alternia could have foreseen that their gods would outlive them. The English— _human_ \--translations of the opera often mistranslate one of Time’s Clockworks lines about immortality. That he knows even gods must die heroically or in villainy, possible hinting at the future demonization of older faiths. Or maybe implying how their pantheon replaced even _older_ gods and one day they’ll be replaced as well.”

“I still wonder about those older gods...” Rose mutters.

“You just want to read that spooky book again.” Dave says, “Maybe this time you’ll sink _Dockside_.”

Rose folds her arms and sticks out her bottom lip. She’s not pouting yet but she hates being treated childishly, especially about her (rather childish) decision to perform a demonic ritual in someone’s home.

“Dave, there’s very little documentation on Beforan Alternian faiths.” Rose says, “It’s theorized that the current trollian religious pantheon only came about during the Condesce’s reign, as it was documented tradition that the queen would lead the populous in religious beliefs. Some xenoanthropologists speculate the Beforans practiced totemic or spiritual ancestor worship rather than aspect-based deities. Doesn’t it strike you odd how few Alternian Traditionalist deities look like trolls? While the Dodeca are definitely troll-associated, there’s no direct correlation of what the Octet represent. They’re not even commonly depicted with horns.”

“No, because who cares?” Dave snorts.

“Maybe they represent another species or sub-species of trolls that went extinct? Like the limebloods?” you suggest.

“Maybe they died out with the _gremlins_...” Dave mutters.

“Gremlins are a real thing in trollian history, Dave,” you say, “The Condesce’s empire colonized every place they could and encountered different species or formed sub-species.”

“I never understood that.” Jade says, “The Empire colonized planets but when Old Alternia was destroyed, why couldn’t they just relocate to a colony? Why live on an artificial satellite and drift through space?”

Karkat looks down and then sighs. “From my understanding…the Imperial colonies didn’t thrive. Trolls are a lot like humans in that they need certain conditions on their home planet to reproduce easily without…changing.”

“Changing? You mean like evolution?” Jade asks.

Karkat folds his arms. “I’m not sure. It’s hard to explain, but trolls are…sensitive to their environment. Trolls have to do a few extra steps when they colonize a planet. They couldn’t just move down into it. They’d first move onto a satellite ship—the size of a small moon—near the planet in question. From there, they’d dispatch Culling Drones. The Culling Drones would investigate the planet, kill natives, and about three hundred years later, the trolls would move from the satellite onto the planet. The process of planetary culling was…difficult…and it wasn’t perfected either. Wait too long and they risked another species rising up or the natives learning to kill the drones. Move in too quickly and you get shadow trolls or another mutated subspecies; definitely a failure by the Empire’s anti-mutation pro-genetic stagnation standpoint. By the time Old Alternia was destroyed, only the shadow troll colony was thriving but not for long. Everyone had to settle onto a satellite ship…with no colony to go to.” 

You know he’s talking from the remains of his grandfather’s memories. Karkat, who had once been so excited about the memories, rarely speaks of them now. He’s reserved; burdened by what he knows. What terrible things has he seen, or felt? Even you’re intimidated to ask.

“Just like the human race, ironically.” Jade says, “Two homeless species that never encountered each other, drifting through space, and just so happened to settle on the same planet. The odds of that happening are a million to one.”

“Space is enormous,” you say, “and really, the reptiles, amphibians, and carapaces were here first.”

“So what about the shadow trolls?” Jade asks, looking at Karkat, “You said they were from a failed colony?”

“I’m not exactly sure…” Karkat mutters, “Eridan or Aranea may know all the particulars. Eridan because Dualscar may have told him about the colonization in better detail due to his lifespan.” He rubs the back of his head. “I don’t really understand why they’re called ‘shadow trolls’. We’re already nocturnal, so isn’t that redundant?”

“It could be an Old Alternian translation error.” You say.

“It does make sense that trolls have a subspecies, especially given the spatial colonization.” Jade speculates, “You’d think that New Earth with its different environment would cause radical changes in trolls like it’s doing to humans. I wonder what’ll happen in ten thousand years. Maybe humanity will start branching off due to increased mutations?”

“You’re going to be like those nuts on Before It’s News that say the Illuminati are using eugenics to turn humans into trolls or reptiles or whatever.” Sollux snorts.

“Why are you still _going_ there?” Karkat groans.

“Makes me laugh.” Sollux snickers.

You’ve had enough of conspiracy theories since Sollux insists on sending you links from that questionable website. You look at Jade. “Jade, when are you due again?”

“Around the third week of March.” Jade says.

“Good luck.” Rose says.

“Has Jane started asking you when she’ll have grandkids?” Sollux asks.

“Oh, in a _roundabout_ way…” Rose sighs, “I just don’t think I could do college and kids at the same time. I’d hate to take time away from Mom’s busy day to watch my kid because I was irresponsible. No offense, Jade.”

“Eh. I was irresponsible for letting Dave be the one to pick the condom.” Jade admits.

“ _Hey_!” Dave protests.

Rose looks down. “And John’s career puts him on the road a lot.”

“How is John?” you ask, despite Dave’s animosity souring the air. You ignore it because underneath the acerbic anger lies a syrupy concern for John that he’s been ignoring.

“John’s fine.” Rose says, guarded, “He’s going to skip college and keep working in theatre. He’ll be on the road a lot more so we worked out a way to keep in contact and…” You hear her sag into the chair. “I’ll admit the exhaustion is making him act…weird.”

“I bet he is…” Dave grunts.

Rose looks at him, frowning. “Dave, you know how John is about his career. After living here, we all grasp opportunities enough to strangle it. _We_ want to be the success story that leaves and return glorified.”

“Thinking like that is why you got involved with that fucker though.” Dave says.

You don’t think Dave meant to sound cruel but Rose shrinks in her chair. Her sadness floods the room but it’s not the kind she reserves for Scrate, which is often mixed with guilt. It’s deeper; more needling and desperate in a way that reminds you of Kankri’s pain.

“I’m just trying to look at it from his perspective,” Rose whispers, “Just that I…understand where he’s come from.”

“Well,” Dave grumbles, at the same volume, “understanding’s only _part_ of the problem.”

You wish you could have a better understanding of their body language but your hearing and taste can only convey so much. Karkat nervously clears his throat and changes the subject before the discomfort in the room reaches intolerable levels, but the party is essentially over. Jade is tired so Dave takes her home and Rose politely leaves with them. Karkat and Sollux linger in your trailer and as soon as the humans leave, you talk about the obvious elephant in the room.

Karkat professes ignorance of the situation. “I have _no idea_ what’s going on with Egbert and Strider.” He rolls his eyes. “Sometimes the humans are cool and sometimes I realize they’re a _totally_ different species.”

“I think this is a personal issue, not a human one.” Sollux says.

“We stuck our noses in the Cherub thing because it affected all of us but this seems way different.” you say.

“Yeah…” Karkat sighs. He looks at you, “Have you talked to Vriska? I know you’re not her moirail but you’re friends and I worry about her.”

“KK, what do you expect her to tell you?” Sollux snorts, “Vriska’s never honest. Not even with herself. I bet the NJPD’s most speciest cops couldn’t beat a truthful confession out of her.”

“Why do you have such a low opinion of her?” Karkat asks. You’re surprised that he’s annoyed and not outright angry since the mutantblood’s so defensive of his ex-matesprit.

“I’ve _always_ had a low opinion of Vriska.” Sollux continues, “You’re just finally listening to it.”

“I know you don’t like her but she’s still the mother of my child and my friend.” Karkat says, patiently.

“ _Karkat_ ,” Sollux groans like he’s arguing with a kit about their bedtime, “she’s not _really_ your friend. A friend would’ve told you they’re leaving the neighborhood and let you be involved with your kid’s life. To Vriska, we’re mud on her boots. Even _Kanaya’s_ sick of her. Vriska only tolerates you because you don’t call her out on her bullshit.”

“ _Sollux_ ,” Karkat groans as well, “we’ve been _over_ _this_. Vriska has her own way of doing things--”

They go back and forth for fifteen minutes, bickering like a married couple. Eventually you interrupt your brother and moirail with a sigh, “Should I leave the room before you start initiating the make-up sex?”

The argument dies away in Sollux and Karkat’s throats. They go still and quiet and Karkat grumbles, embarrassed, “I don’t do make-up sex.”

“It’s getting late.” Sollux coughs, “I have to read Suxxor his bedtime story and make sure Eridan tired him out.”

“Yeah, and I have to go take some pics for work…” Karkat mutters.

They both give you a hug before abruptly leaving. You don’t make much of the newfound tension between them. They were always a duo; off having misadventures like exploring Darkleer Manor. You know they brought a camera, but you never saw the footage. At some point, you should ask Sollux about that.

It’s late so you lazily half-clean the remains of the party and go to sleep. Kankri tosses and turns in the recuperacoon now so you have to be careful. If it becomes too much, it may be safer just to have him sleep on the daybed. You fall asleep but your thoughts still linger on Vriska and what she’s up to.


	3. questioning you

**== >Terezi: Be Tavros at the moment**

There’s very little you can do nowadays to your constant annoyance. First there was the inability to bend down and pick up anything, followed by exhaustion, and losing the ability to easily get out of chairs. So your days are filled with little outside stimulus. You balance your days between playing videogames and talking to people online. Your grandfather has been spending more time indoors. He’s currently on a World of Skaia binge, conducting nightly raids and yelling at his teammates to stop dicking around (which they never do. Right now you’re relaxing in your bedroom while he’s gold farming and you’re watching a pirated download of _Troll Holly Black’s Valiant._

“Who do you game with?” you ask.

“Moirail and auspistice.” Petros says, not looking from the screen.

“I didn’t think your generation gamed.” you say.

“Are we just supposed to just play bingo and _die_?” Petros snorts, “I need something to stimulate my brain.”

“Maybe we could play sometime…?” you suggest, “I’m stuck in the house and I’ve played _Katamari Damacy_ so many times that I can hear the music in my head.”  

Petros frowns. “You were the one that decided that their matesprit shouldn’t wear a condom and _never_ considered an emergency morning after pill?”

“Even if you’re a troll, you can’t get that in New Jack unless its sexual assault and you need notification from the cops. Some places finagle the rules but they’re sketchy and charge you a lot more than reasonable. There’s no guarantee they’re not sugar pills either.”

“So you’re seriously telling me there was _no_ third option? There was _no_ self-righteous doctor that wouldn’t help you?”

You pause your movie and look up from your husktop _._ “Grandpa, why do you keep asking me about that? You’ve been skittish since I started showing. What’s the big deal? Grandma and you had an egg.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t _there_ for that.” Petros grumbles, “Laying eggs isn’t something you do with people standing around. I don’t even know why we went to this reproduction system. It’s a pain in the ass and it’s called ‘pregnancy’. A _human_ word. Why can’t we have our own word that isn’t associated with tiny human females?”

“Considering how your generation didn’t have a word for ‘mother’ or ‘father’ that wasn’t preceded by an animal, I doubt you had one in Old Alternian for ‘pregnancy’.”

Petros pauses. “I think _‘lunojnau phaurausoses onfucsoi’_ could mean ‘pregnant’ but the direct translation would be ‘infected with benign parasites’. Any troll with your symptoms would assume to be suffering from internal parasites.”

You could see that being commonplace on Old Alternia. “What was the worst parasite you had?”

“One of the many I got on this planet. There were no preparations made to settle here so no shots, no atmospheric adjustment…a lot of us were sick for the first couple of years. Contracted nearly every disease from the humans, reptiles, and carapaces.”

“Seriously?” You roll toward your grandfather as much as you can with your stomach. You have to also move the tinkerbull that’s lying on your bed. The only reason you’ve let them in your room is because they’re a runt prone to being bullied by the bigger tinkerbulls. “I never heard about your generation getting sick.”

“Not really something you tell your kids.” Petros chuckles, “‘When I was your age, I came to this planet and immediately started puking my guts out because I wasn’t used to the rapid adjustment in atmospheric pressure and gravity. Plus, I caught parasites.’”

“How long did that last?”

“Weeks, though the good thing about being a brownblood is that your body adjusts quickly. Coldbloods take longer to purge viruses. That’s why the flu kills a lot of them, even if they’re vaccinated.”

“You’d think it would be the opposite...”

“No. You have to understand that we warmbloods have always been on the frontlines slaving away in hazardous conditions.” Petros smirks. “All those generations spent living in crowded cities and hovels made us the first to suffer from plagues and epidemics while the coldbloods were hidden under the ocean or in the desert. Our immune systems are tougher and honestly, this is a warmblood-friendly planet. Coldbloods need a hotter environment with more oxygen. This place is too cold, the seasons are too long, and the sun’s too small.”

You hope Gamzee’s alright. He’s been moody since winter began; friendly for a day and then withdrawn and aimlessly wandering around the neighborhood for the rest of the week. You’ve checked in with Feferi and Kurloz just to make sure he’s alright, but you have to respect the distance he’s putting. You flush him but he can still hurt you if he flips out. Things are still tense between Gamzee and your mother and the situation between Petros and Gamzee has been deteriorating the minute your pregnancy started showing.

You pet the tinkerbull, trying to take your mind off of Gamzee. “Is it such a good idea to have all these animals just lying around like this? We’ll have a problem eventually.” You pause. “Do you think they’d mind if we fix some of them? They’re not even legally ours.”

Petros shrugs. “Domesticated animals rarely give a shit what you do to them. Their mindset is that you’re the greatest thing in the world until they learn otherwise. Many of them are willing to sacrifice breeding capability for lifetime companionship.”

You smirk. “No wonder you hate PETA. Your understanding of animals is tethered to _reality_.”

“More like they hate me and I enjoy escalating that hate.” Petros smiles. “My auspistice thinks it’s as close to a kismesistude as it can get. At first I hated the idea but I think pitching the entire PETA organization in their grand and baffling stupidity fits me.”

“It is everything that you would hate.” You poke the tinkerbull on the snout but it whines and rolls onto its back. “Are you going to be here when I have the egg?”

Petros frowns. “Why would I be? You’re going to be screaming and in horrible pain. I might not even be in the _neighborhood_ when you’re doing all of that mess.”

“You don’t have to be in the room, but I’d like you to meet your great grandkid.”

“Before they’ve hatched? They can’t even _see_ me.”

“They can still pick up sound and temperature. I want our family to be close.” Because if you keep a better eye on your kids than your parents did with you, maybe you can prevent them from going through the absolute hell you did. “If you’re not comfortable meeting them, that’s fine. I was just asking if you wanted to.”

“Tav. Listen.” Petros sighs, looking up from his husktop, “It’s not that I don’t _want_ to meet them, but this is…weird. It’s way too… _human_.”

“I know it’s weird for you but I don’t know anything different.”

“I’ll think about it.” Petros grumbles with little conviction.

He goes back to gaming and you keep watching your terrible YA movie until you nod off. Sleep never lasts long though because you bladder’s shrunken to the point where you have to get up every thirty minutes or walk around unless you want to deal with abdominal cramping. At two in the morning you’re pacing in your bedroom in the hopes of working out a cramp, when you hear footsteps in the kitchen. The animals aren’t allowed in there for sanitation reasons and most of them shooed outdoors at night, so you hope it’s not a burglar. Just to be on the safe side, you get the steel bat in your bedroom. Your grandfather’s asleep but he’s a light sleeper. If there’s trouble, he’ll be the first to know and act.

You inch to the kitchen but the only person in there is Gamzee. His hair’s still long and there are fresh scabs on his arms. He’s sneezing and pouring himself some lemonade.

You lower the baseball bat. “Hey…you alright?”

Gamzee looks at you. You can’t see his eyes under his hair but it’s been detangled and washed. He sneezes and nods to you. “Hey.”

“Are you…sick?” you ask.

“A little.” Gamzee coughs into the crook of his arm and looks at you, “Didn’t want you catching it.”

You fold your arms. “I’d rather get sick than be alone. Is that why you’ve been gone all this time?” You look at his arm. “How’d you get scratched up, though?”

“I was delirious and fell into a trash pit because I saw a toaster down there.” Gamzee mumbles, ears turning slightly purple. “I thought I could climb down there like fucking Spiderman but it turned out ‘Nope, can’t do that’, so I fell in. Fef and Meenah had to help me out and then I had to get tetanus and infection shots...”

That couldn’t have been easy given Gamzee’s intense fear of hospitals and doctors. “When did this happen…?” Gamzee shrugs, unwilling to divulge the date. “And why were you in a trash pit looking for a _toaster_?”

“I was delirious,” Gamzee coughs, “and our toaster broke so I was looking for a new one.”

“I’m imagining you in the trash pit with your legs sticking up like a cartoon character while Feferi tries to pull you out.” You snicker, but Gamzee is glaring at you. You take his hand, “Oh, calm down. Let’s sit on the couch and relax. I’ve barely seen you all week.”  

“I don’t want you getting sick.”

“I have a better immune system than you think. Trust me.” The purpleblood grumbles but you bat your eyelashes. “ _Please_?”

Gamzee’s resolve immediately crumbles. He can never resist your sad face. You lay on the couch and he rests his head in your lap, trying not to cough too much. There’s nothing on TV this late at night but reruns of bad reality shows. Gamzee is quiet, trying to stifle his coughing and sneezing.

“You caught a cold because you never wear a jacket.” you say.

Gamzee doesn’t respond because he’s fallen asleep. You massage his horn base, listening to him purr in his sleep. You’re into the third episode of Food Court Kings, when your iHusk vibrates.  

 

\--arsenicCatnip[AC] began trolling adiosToreador[AT]!--

 

AC: :33< tafurros, i need your opinion on something.  

AT: i LIKE YOUR NEW HAIR CUT, iT DOESN’T MAKE YOU LOOK LIKE A ‘STEREOTYPICAL YOUNG MOM’,

AC: >:((< not that!

AC: :33< i’m making a for simham and i want you to look at the rough draft.

AT: a BOOK? wHAT FOR?

AC: ://< i want simham to understand when its safe to go near gamz33 and dad and when not to and i think a picture book is the best way to teach him.

AC: ://< i don’t want him to get hurt like i was because he doesn’t recognize the danger.

AT: hM,,,THAT’S A GOOD IDEA,

AT: aLRIGHT, i’LL HELP YOU, mAYBE IT’S A GOOD IDEA FOR TORKEN TO READ IT TOO,

AC: X33< *that’s* the name you’re going with?

AT: iT’S A CUTE NAME!

AC: X33< no, its not. it sounds like a car brand.

AT: i LIKE IT SO THAT’S THE NAME THEY’RE GETTING,

AC: :33< i’m having trouble deciding if that’s a worse or better than ‘suxxor’.

AT: i DON’T CARE BECAUSE MY KID IS GOING TO BE THE MOST ADORABLE,

AC: >:II< oh like hell they are! 

 

You argue with Nepeta about the potential cuteness of your grub versus Simham’s actual cuteness. You have to admit that Simham is precious and not just because he has Gamzee’s wild mane. You don’t know how Nepeta maintains it. You already decided that you’re going to shaven Torken near-bald just to maintain their hair. It’s already a pain in the ass just to keep Gamzee’s hair clear of cotton fluff and knots.


	4. epilogue: the closing of the year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: has drugged drinks and loss of control/inhibitions.

**== >Tavros: Be Vriska for the rest of the year**

December is empty of anything interesting. The college transfer students have vacated the city, preferring to spend the holiday back home with relatives or loved ones. The local students have left for Midway and other cities that have bigger functions for the end of the year. With them gone, all that’s left are mediocre parties and functions. The casinos are rolling out their C-list for the rest of this month and you wouldn’t be caught dead attending.  Aging back-up singers at Buccaneer’s Bliss, middling comedians at Long John Silver Slots, discounted crooked craps games at the Orphaner’s Treasure, and nothing at the Black Hole will _ever_ interest you.

Plus you heard remnants of the Cherubs hang out there and you have no interest dealing with those fucks.

You fall in a dull routine. The days are spent sleeping, the late afternoons cramming cereal or leftovers in your mouth, and the nights out on paid dates all over East New Jack. Most of the time you’re downtown in clubs or at restaurants. You don’t go far into suburbia because you’re not as stupid as people seem to think you are. Sometimes you meet John out on these excursions and hang out, or invite him to your place for an after party recuperation on both your parts.

That is your weekdays. The weekends are spent with Hecuba; whether it’s sailing in the bay, golf, or troll-only gun ranges in Twelve Acres maintained by questionable cops. Hecuba is leagues better than Nektan when it comes to company; poised, elegant, enjoys the same things you do, gives you your space, doesn’t ask many questions, and is _loaded_. It’s everything Karkat couldn’t give you.

It’s more than you could ever want.

The day before New Year’s Eve, Hecuba comes into the living room. You’re only in a silk slip watching reality TV and not expecting any surprises. Without warning, she picks you up and tells you that you’re going out for New Years. Hecuba towers over you (another thing you like) and can easily carry you around if she wants. You change and leave the apartment immediately for all the necessary shopping. Quality is mandatory for an outing so only brand names will do: Versace dresses, Prada handbag, Blissful Sin shoes, Gucci belt and accessories.

No one store sells all of this. A shopping trip with Hecuba is a multi-stop adventure that you could only dream of and you know Kanaya _must_ envy. In the fourth clothing store you visit, you look at yourself in the dressing room mirror. You’re wearing a skirt and boots that coast more than your old trailer.

“You look gorgeous, girl.” Hecuba says, grinning. The dressing room is the size of your old bedroom and Hecuba is sitting on a velvet cushion, watching you. “Have you ever considered a career in modeling?”

“ _Modeling_?” you laugh, “I’m nowhere as skinny enough.”

“Skinny and pretty have nothing to do with each other.” Hecuba laughs.

“I don’t know the right people.” You say, innocently.

“I do.” Hecuba says, as you predicted, “I know a _real_ modeling agency. Nothing sketchy, I promise. I can introduce you to the manager at the party and arrange a photo session.”

Your heart pounds and your throat goes dry. This is what you wanted. You can’t do paid dating forever and you already had three close calls. You need a more stable, less risky way to earn money, and this is it. Your exterior is still calm though. Freaking out would make you vulnerable and you know Hecuba will pounce on you if she knows you’re in the dark about something. Not that you hate her for it. If your roles were reversed, you’d be doing that same.

“I’ll consider it.” you say, as coolly as possible.

Hecuba smiles. “I’m sure you’ll love them.”

You plan on making sure they love you. These weeks spent with Hecuba have taught you how to work a room of people and keep all your lies straight. You conclude your shopping trip with dinner at your favorite Nehetalian restaurant and return home early. You give Snippy a portion of your leftover shrimp. Snippy chitters in thanks as he attends to Arthat with all the attention and duty he was bred with.

On New Year’s Eve you leave Snippy an extra portion of lusus-feed with meat scraps that should last him until morning. You leave the penthouse at seven and ride in Hecuba’s Rolls-Royce to Fraymotif. She’s bought out one of the VIP rooms, which is decorated with gold and blue for the holiday. There are bouncers at the club and VIP doors, making sure only guests with passes are allowed in. In the VIP room, you drink and socialize with Hecuba’s friends, who know your face and name by heart now.

“This must be a far different from the parties you’ve been to.” says one guest, “What are New Years parties like in the Ninth Ward?”

“Oh, we never really had parties.” You say, pouting, “Couldn’t actually afford them so New Years was just another day. I would be working usually.”

“Working? A pretty face like that?” asks another, scandalized.

“Working where?” asks a third.

You shrug. “Just one of the many fried chicken places. They went out of business shortly after I left.” You smile at Hecuba, whose sitting across the room watching. “I’m glad I met Hecuba. My life’s so much better now.” You grin. “I can finally have _fun_!”

These idiots _love_ a rags-to-riches story. They like that you’re poor Niner trash who needs their glamorous help and is thankful to have them around. Their guard goes down and it’s way too easy to school them in cards. The looks on their faces when they realize they’ve lost to you makes the boons, acting, and lying all worth it.  

At eight you’re laughing, exchanging quips. The longer you talk to these near-strangers not-quite-yet friends, the more you warp your own history. No, you weren’t there during the Cherub assault. Your family actually spent most of their time in the Squalor. You don’t know your parents that well. You were basically raised by your sister on food stamps and what was left over from your parent’s paychecks. You have a kid but you don’t know the father. You’d rather not talk about it.

(You always remember to look downcast when you mention this, letting them fill in the unfortunate blanks. Sympathy fills in the room so fast you could choke on it.)

Everybody loves a sob story.

You don’t know how much Hecuba believes or if she has an interest in distinguishing fact from fiction. Most likely not, given how she’s a corporate lawyer and the biggest part of her job is to push boldfaced lies on people. So far the tealblood’s just played along with knowing smirks and smiles in your direction, but no hint of debunking or challenging.

At nine, you get tired of taking everyone’s money at poker and settle on the couch with another drink. There’s a DJ in another corner of the room taking requests. Ten minutes later, Hecuba walks over and introduces you to Vinton Lycras. They’re dressed as what you would expect from a modeling manager: Gucci scarf and suit, short vibrant red hair, smoking out of a classy silver cigarette holder. Their eyes are pale blue-green, which means they would be somewhere between Kanaya and Nepeta.

“My blood is _viridian_ , darling.” says Vinton, “You’re staring into my eyes so you must be curious.” They grin, chuckling. “Unless you’re suddenly in love with me.”

Their smile reminds you of Kanaya and you immediately, _intensely_ dislike them, but you need this bastard (or bitch, you can’t tell), so you just smirk. “I may be young but I’m not _stupid_.”

“Vriska’s interested in modeling.” Hecuba says.

“She has a kid.” Vinton looks at you, “I bet you have stretch marks.”

“If I wasn’t so polite, I’d strip down to show you otherwise.” you say.

“She bites back if you tease too much, Vinton.” Hecuba teases.

“I prefer my models with spine. This isn’t an easy industry.” Vinton says, still looking at you, “Any stripper or trailer trash with Double-D jugs and blonde hair thinks they can work Playtroll or Victoria’s Secret and get thirty grand a year. They don’t know about the hard work that goes into it: five hours of exercise a day, limited calories, and the fact you might make it and still be broke. Most models start out making _nothing_ and trust me, you’ll continue to get nothing if you break contract. You think you can do that, little girl? How old are you? Are you even _legal_?”

“Legal enough to pay the bills.” You’ll be eighteen in April but you’re independent by New Jack standards.

Vinton grins. They have long fangs that remind you a snarling baboon. “I’ll try you out. Shop your picture around and see what happens. And if you crack under the pressure”—they sip their martini, walking away—“no skin off my nose.”

Vinton walks away while you’re grinding your teeth. Hecuba touches your shoulder, folding her fingers over your skin, and leans in to whispers: “Looks like you held up but don’t think you’re out of the fire yet. I hear Vinton likes to scream and grind down their new recruits. _Crazy_ for discipline.”

“I’ve handled worse.” you lie.

“Sloughing away in the mud fields outside your trailer?” Hecuba snickers.

You brush her fingers off your shoulder. “Service work gives you a hard exterior.”

You don’t want Hecuba touching you when you’re jittery. You can’t stop your legs from shaking and you hate yourself for it. You’re reminded of when you were a kit, knock-kneed and afraid of the loud and raging storms that plague New Jack summers. Only Kanaya and you would be home and you were too proud to run and hide in her bed, even though she was just a few feet away. You hate being afraid. It’s a feeling you always have to beat back with brass knuckles.

Fuck that feeling.

So at ten, you get sloshed. Why not? It’s an open bar and the man behind the counter works for tips. You down two Feathercadences and then take a Breathless Battaglia to go. You drop a hundred in the tip jar and walk out of the VIP room. You trawl the club but nothing interesting is happening. It’s all slow music and couples for New Years; people slopping kissing, laughing, or slurping more drinks. You find the mezzanine and sit on a chair near the stairs so you can oversee the dance floor. You look at your new iHusk and open Trollichum, but there’s no one to message. People are either away, busy, or offline. They’re probably sitting in their ugly mud huts, enjoying their miserable and poverty-filled lives.

You’re so glad you’re left.

You’re definitely glad. You have no doubt about how glad you are.

Your chumpRoll flashes as someone comes online. You take another sip and sit back.

 

\--arachnidsGrip[AG] began trolling ectoBiologist[EB]!--

 

AG: eg8ert

AG: eegggg8errrrt

AG: eggy egggy egggy egggggy

EB: oh my gods. vriska. what are you doing?

EB: i thought you were at a party.

AG: I’m still at a party fyi, egg.

EB: you sound totally drunk.

AG: im nto drunk! i only had like two dirnks!

EB: loaded with vodka i bet.

AG: are you having a trash party in trashtown?

EB: no. i’m relaxing. driving around. killing time i guess.

AG: drivin around?? with what?

EB: i borrowed someone’s car.

AG: strider’s new one?

EB: no. dave and i…aren’t talking.

AG: what? why not?

EB: everyone already knows about it. i don’t want to go into it.

AG: I don’t know about it!! i don’t live in trashmudtown anymore.

EB: i just SAID I didn’t want to get into it!

EB: it’s…personal.

AG: did you try to kiss him or something?

EB: what.

AG: what?

EB: i didn’t try to kiss dave. why would you even think that?

AG: it seems like something you would do when you’re drunk or high.

EB: i don’t try to make out with people when i’m drunk. i’m not karkat.

AG: so you would kiss dave?

EB: if I was interested in him maybe but i’m not and i’m pissed at him so its not happening either way.

AG: shit i thought you would 8e all pissy and insist how you’re like super straight no 8ending around with you

EB: “8ending around”? what does that even mean?

AG: i dunno your human terms for sex stuff with your one-type only genitals.

EB: i don’t really care what people say anymore. i’m comfortable with who i am. if I like a guy or a girl or whoever n the future, it doesn’t really matter.

AG: holy shit. you finally loosened up about things. are you drinking too?

EB: no. not a good idea to mix that.

AG: mix itt with what?

EB: not worth going into.

AG: ugh this drink is terrible

EB: what are you drinking?

AG: breathless battaglia

EB: you’re at fraymotif?

AG: yeah, hecuba and company bought out a party room so we’re hanging here but this drink is gorss. I never had it before.

EB: what’s wrong with it? i had it before and it was fine.

AG: it’s like really powerful and it doesn’t taste god.

EB: really powerful? it should just have tequila and something. i’ve seen you drink stronger stuff. maybe the guy didn’t mix it right?

AG: maybe.

EB: what’s it taste like?

AG: idk

AG: lemme drink some more

 

You take another sip of your martini, swish it around in your mouth, and swallow. You attempt to report back to John but the entire room sways for a minute. The iHusk screen blurs and you have to catch your balance on the table in front of you. A minute later you get your bearings.

 

AG: sorta salty an shit

AG: should not have dunk that im getting dizzy

AG: way tooooo strong fer me

EB: Vriska.

AG: what?

EB: who gave you that drink?

AG: idk some guy at the party

AG: he was mixing drnks for everyone

EB: did you watch him make it or did you just take it?

AG: ummm

AG: i dunno ??

AG: i just sorta took it and drank it like the othersss???

EB: okay. where are you exactly in the club?

AG: im on the mezzanine like r8ght in front

AG: chillin like um

AG: shit how 8oes that phrase go??/

EB: hold on. i’m heading there.

AG: john u weren8t invited 2 the party

AG: itd be ruuuuuude to come in

EB: i know the guy who runs fraymotif.

AG: do noooooot

EB: i’m at his place right now. i can go in and bring you out easily. Just stay where you are.

AG: why? i wanna dan

 

Then the realization slams into you and your heart nearly stops beating.

 

AG: oh shit

AG: oh fuck

AG: FUCK

AG: FUCK FUCK F8CK!!!!

EB: by that clusterfuck you just spouted, i’m guessing you just realized what may have happened to you and said drink.

AG: who the fuuuck even 8id this to me?!!

EB: do you want me to take you to the cops?

AG: no!!!!

AG: just like

AG: just like get here alright?? Im on the mezzanine and im staying here

EB: alright

 

\--ectoBiologist[EB] ceased trolling arachnidsGrip[AG]!--

 

You take a deep breath and try to collect yourself. First thing: you need to stay where you are and not move for anyone but John. You’re not even sure you trust Hecuba in this situation. Someone like her wouldn’t be above taking advantage of a drugged troll. You’re too skittish to get out of your seat and locate the trash can, so you dump the drink on the floor. It’s New Year’s Eve. No one’s going to be surprised or care.

You take another calming breath. Stay calm, Vriska. This isn’t the first time something’s gone awry while you were out. No reason to freak out. You start doing multiplication in your head because it’s the only way to keep focused. You can’t pass out. Fraymotif may be a club in suburbia but that doesn’t mean you won’t be harmed here by its sketchier customers.

The multiplication doesn’t last long. Your mind is getting foggier. The music and lights are far too obnoxious, culminating into a throbbing headache. You wonder if it’s the drug or your psionics reacting to it. Why couldn’t you have _useful_ psionics, like ones that predicted if a drink would be fucking _drugged?_

“Vriska?”

You hear John’s voice and slowly open your eyes. You recognize his face but his features are blurry around the edges. When you don’t answer, he bends down and looks at you, “How you feeling?”

“Not good…” You try to stand but it’s difficult.

With some difficulty due to you being a half-foot taller than him, John manages to help you stand. Your legs are barely functioning under you but you concentrate on plodding them ahead. He helps you down the mezzanine stairs while your head is lolling around. Fraymotif’s music is thundering, pounding in your skull, and every light is blaring at you. Your heart is beating rapidly, panicking at the sudden lack of control. You’re too much in a chemically-induced stupor to match its agitation. John helps you out of the club and onto the curb. The bouncers at the door don’t give you a second glance. They must assume you’re drunk and not drugged.

The night air is humid and moist. You smell petrichor and overhead are dark clouds, promising warm rain.

 

 

“Car’s just ahead.” John says, “You sure you don’t want to take off your shoes?”

“These shoes cost two hundred boons. _No way_ I’m takin’ ‘em off.” You mutter.

John shrugs and continues moving you toward the car. The car isn’t anything special but John safely manages to put you in the passenger’s car and buckle you in. You have no idea whose car this is but you’re thankful to them right now.

You’re grasping for your iHusk in your purse but your fingers feel like you’re floating away from your body. Nothing is coordinated and everything is dizzy and miserable. “Hafta…hafta tell Hecuba that I’mmm…”  

“I can send her a message.” John says, shutting the door. He gets into the driver’s seat and starts the car, “How are you doing? Feel like you’re going to puke?”

“No. I’mmm…” You wipe your mouth since you’re salivating like a bulldog now, “I’m…drooling…?”

“Could be tranqs.” John says, with a look of intense disgust, “You sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?”

“Nah. Mmm…” You slurp. Your fingers are tingling and turning numb. You flex them to remind yourself they’re still attached, “Just take me home. Got my own key.”

“Alright.” John says.

You try to look out your window but every light has a long streak and the movement is nauseating. You slump down in your chair and focus on John’s face. He’s losing considerable weight and still wearing the clip-on shades, which have become part of his outfit recently. He stinks of burnt sugar and something equally sharp; just a whiff hurts your noise. You don’t ask questions because he’s the one driving you home.

You easily get into the apartment complex. The security guard at the gate glances at you, rolls his eyes, and slumps back in their chair. It’s New Year’s Eve after all. On the elevator ride to your floor, your stomach starts churning. The first you do when you get out on your floor is rush toward the nearest trash can. You get the bulk of the alcohol and half-digested in the can but your dress is still spattered with drool and bile.

John has to help you walk the rest of the way to the door. He searches in your purse for the key and fumbles with it (and you) as you enter. Pushed to your limit, you finally black out.

When you come to, you’re lying on the couch facedown with a trash can next to you. There’s a towel under your face, absorbing some of the drool that’s dried on you. You’ve been changed out of your puke-stained dress and wearing one of your spare shirts, although your bra and underwear are still on. Snippy is looking up at you, clicking with what you think is concern or maybe hunger. You try to sit up but you can hardly move.

“How you doing?” John asks.

You groan. Your mouth feels numb and your limbs are sluggish. You’re still drooling slightly but its tapering off. What the hell were you drugged with?

As if reading your thoughts, John says, “I don’t know what they put in your drink to make you react like this. Most tranqs don’t work on trolls so it could’ve been a cocktail or a drug. Any idea about who’d do this? Or any enemies?”

You grunt and force yourself to sit up. It’s worth the work just so you can give Egbert an incredulous look.

John nods. “Right…it’s _you,_ which means it could’ve been anyone.” He holds up your iHusk. “I sent Hecuba a message as you. Said that you felt sick and that you had to go home suddenly. Figured you wouldn’t want her knowing what happened.”

“Good man.” you croak, still drooling, “You heading back to mudsville?”

“Not right now. You still got junk in your system. You could pass out as soon as I leave.” John gives you back your iHusk and starts texting on his.

You wipe your mouth. It’s getting easier to talk but it’s still taking some effort. “Won’t your girlfriend mind?”

“Nah. She’s having a night out thing with Kanaya, Aradia, Feferi, Terezi…you know. All the girls.” John says, “We spent all yesterday together…” He pauses, frowns, and then inhales. “She understands I need to do my thing sometimes.”

You remember last year’s New Year’s Eve. None of you had the funds reserved for an actual party so you gathered at the abandoned park in your neighborhood with alcohol and weed stolen from your parents. Terezi, Kanaya, Aradia, and Tavros were there.

You passed around the vodka, smoked the weed, and considered your futures. Then you saw a cop car come by and ran like hell, leaving behind beer bottles, plastic cups, but taking the remaining weed you. You hid at your trailer, which was empty because your mother was out for the night. You smoked the remaining weed and watched old movies. You passed out before midnight and woke up hungover. There were no adults in the house come morning so you all attempted to make breakfast, which was a hilarious disaster.

Now you’re lying on the couch sick to your stomach with John standing over you. He takes off his clip-off shades and scrubs his eyes. You haven’t seen his face in weeks and you’re surprised by how bloodshot his eyes are. It’s a struggle to not stare. To distract yourself, you search for the remote control buried in the couch.

“Wanna watch the ball drop?” you ask.

John shrugs. “Sure.”

You find the remote and turn on the TV. You’re still sensitive to light and sound but it’s a necessary distraction from John’s face.

Every public station is tuned into the live New Years Eve party annually streamed from Dadlas at Times Triangle. C-list celebrities sing and entertain the vast crowd that must have dropped a grand or more to come to this exclusive party. When you feel more balanced, you manage to stand (with some help from John) and walk to the bathroom. You brush your teeth, take off your bra, remove the earrings, jewels, and finally scrub your face clean of all makeup.

You change into pajamas and rejoin John on the couch. You don’t have to tell him thank you because he already knows. You have another question.  

“John,” you say.

“Mmm?” he mutters. His clip-on shades are off, clenched in his hands. He’s staring at the TV screen, eyes bloodshot and pupils dilated.

“Why are you in East New Jack tonight?”

“Why would you rather go to parties with complete strangers than your family?” John grumbles, not looking at you. He’s scratching his gaunt face, looking more anxious by the minute.

You look at the screen; at the couples and families standing in the humid Dadlas night, grouped together with umbrellas and signs as they wait for the ball to drop. “Family’s overrated. Just because they like me doesn’t mean _I’m_ happy.”

“Yeah. Good point. Who gives a fuck? As long as you’re happy, who gives a shit?” He stands and starts pacing, like a dog before a storm. “That’s the point isn’t it? The goal? Happiness. And you need to have money to be happy, so that’s why we do what we do. We have to do it because no one else is going to do it for us. Our parents? Fuck it. They’re still struggling. Still putting it altogether. We may as well be Lost Boys.”

He starts muttering angrily and his pacing slows to a stop. Then John leaves for the bathroom, still mumbling. Ten minutes later he comes out bouncy and energetic. He offers to make food and you don’t decline because you are hungry. John burns out some of his energy in the kitchen by carefully making you a full breakfast.

At midnight, you eat bacon and eggs and watch the New Years ball drop. The stereo fills with loud cheering. People are congratulating and kissing each other for making it through another year.

You sit in your shared penthouse with your friend; both of you isolated from everyone you know and love by your own doings.

Then John suddenly stands. His legs are shaky and he almost falls over. His eyes are still dilated but he’s bouncy and energetic now.

“I’m gonna go.” he announces, loudly, like he’s on stage. “I’m gonna go tell Rose that I love her.” He looks at you. “You gonna be alright?”

You nod. “Yeah. Go be with your girlfriend.”

John blinks and then grins. “I’m off then!”

He gives you a parting hug and then he’s gone as quickly as he arrived.

At twelve fifteen, you’re alone in the penthouse. Hecuba hasn’t messaged you so she must be preoccupied at the party or assumes you’ve passed out in your own vomit somewhere. You question the identity of who drugged you, but there are too many suspects. Maybe Vinton did it as a sadistic test. Maybe someone who lost to you in poker did it out of revenge. Immediately you dig into your purse and see your winning are still there. Feeling paranoid, you put the money in your lockbox hidden in your room.

All the money is going toward Arthat’s school fund. You want your baby to be well dressed and prepared for school. You shut the lockbox, nails gripping the smooth metal surface.

“It’s going to be fine.” you whisper, repeating your nightly mantra, “They’re all going to be jealous of you…they’re all going to wish they _were_ you…”

You hiccup and hold yourself. The minute you’re alone, you start blubbering like a grub. You hate it. You hate everything about crying but it won’t stop. You can’t even hit the walls without attracting the neighbors or security. After five minutes, you suck it up and recollect yourself. You stand shakily, put away the lockbox, and leave the bedroom with your head held high.

You have better things to do than sit alone and cry. It’s the beginning of a new year after all. 


End file.
